


stop dreaming (the break of day remix)

by springofviolets



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Developing Relationship, Hallucinations, M/M, Not as angsty as the summary sounds lol, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 08:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19146844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springofviolets/pseuds/springofviolets
Summary: He turns onto his side, his back to the other person, to the phantom here to cruelly remind him of how the only person left to care about him — the only person since his dad died to chip away, slowly, at his armor and then, all at once, his heart — is gone.





	stop dreaming (the break of day remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perfectlyrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/gifts).
  * Inspired by [mistaken for a vision](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15891132) by [perfectlyrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/pseuds/perfectlyrose). 



> thank you to [bootyshortskeef](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bootyshortskeef/pseuds/bootyshortskeef) for reading over this for me! also, the title is a mix of "reunion" and "fiction" by the xx.
> 
> [perfectlyrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose), as soon as i saw this one i knew exactly what i needed to do with it. (btw, you said this was set s1-s2, so i went with soon after 2x8.) i hope everyone likes it!

For so long, it's just dark. Keith aches and sweats and all he sees is the black behind his eyelids, an endless black like, like the sky he used to sneak out and gaze at with—  

When he wakes up, he's in his bed at the Garrison, clutching a leather jacket against his chest. His face feels hot and wet and he's not sure if he's sick or if he's been crying in his sleep again. Keith almost hopes he's sick, because he's cried enough, hidden in his room, to fill a distant ocean.

He feels like he's forgetting something; the thought disappears as quickly as it arrived, dissolving into the fog. There are voices outside his door, but he just rolls over in the bed. Whatever's wrong with him, he'll just sleep it off. Maybe this time it'll work.

*

Keith burns into reality again, skin clammy despite the fire in his lungs and bones. He thrashes against the blankets, startling when a cool hand cups his chin and brings a cup to his lips. He gulps the water down desperately, then opens his eyes.

He shuts them again. "When will — when will it _stop_ ," he rasps.

"We don't have anything we can give you," the voice says, and Keith squeezes his eyes shut harder. That's not what he means. "I'm sorry. But it should pass soon."

He wants to lean into the voice. He wants to never hear it again, this ghost haunting him, taunting him. He wants it to never leave.

"— me alone," he manages without choking on his words.

The voice is soft. So soft, like it's not even there. "You're not alone."

"You're lying," he says, and though it sends knives through him again, he turns onto his side, his back to the other person, to the phantom here to cruelly remind him of how the only person left to care about him — the only person since his dad died to chip away, slowly, at his armor and then, all at once, his heart — is gone.

*

He drifts in and out, floats between awake and unconscious. Keith's aware of this, but too dizzy to sort out which is which, the thoughts and dreams clouding up his head.

His body hurts all over, and Keith wonders if he's in the infirmary.  He swallows painfully; his mouth feels dry, like it's filled with sand and dirt. Maybe he hit his head in the process of socking Iverson, which is the last thing he can remember right now. Keith is pretty sure he got Iverson right in the eye, and would have kept going if they'd let him. His brain cooperates long enough for him to think _Asshole deserved it. Pilot error my ass._

Then he remembers that either way, _Shiro's gone._

 _No_ . Shiro's gone, but he's not dead. _They're lying._

He has to get Shiro.

Keith flails and untangles himself from the sheets, stumbling out of the bed.

His legs fail him, and as a cry claws its way out of his throat, he falls into someone's arms.

*

In the days after the announcement ( _pilot error. it's a lie._ ), despite his best attempts to focus on how _they're lying_ , sometimes Keith falls asleep thinking of all the different possibilities, and then descends into nightmares about even more.

Shiro alone in space, oxygen running low. They've wasted vital time. It's too late.

Shiro captured by aliens. He need someone to find him, but he's beyond recognition.

Shiro killed by aliens. It's too late.

It was a crash, but not pilot error. His body will never be recovered.

Shiro — where is Shiro? He's gone, but he's not.

It's too late. It's not.

Is Keith going the same way? Is he going to fail Shiro like this? They are all warned about space madness — has it reached him here on earth?

*

Keith decides he's either going crazy or dying, and his mind is just providing him the comfort of someone familiar. That's why he can't be upset anymore that Shiro's here, even if it's just some hallucination. It's just like Shiro — selfless, always looking out for Keith — to find a way to be here for Keith when he really needs it.

"Shiro," he croaks, reaching for him.

Shiro takes his hand, and he feels so firm and real that Keith can almost believe he is. "I'm here," he says.

"You're here." Keith repeats it, feeling dreamy.

He allows himself to look at Shiro this time — he misses him too much to keep away. He misses the way he looks, the casual way he'd clap Keith on the shoulder or tug him close for a hug despite Keith's obligatory but half-hearted grumbling.

Keith turns back to him, taking in Shiro's face: the handsome square of his jaw, his nose and his eyes.  There's white locks in the front of his hair, like this is a version of Shiro who was allowed to grow old and start graying. Keith doesn't want to die, but he's grateful it brought him this.

Keith sighs. "I'm sorry I never told you."

Shiro smiles at him, soft and indulgent. "I'll still be here when you're feeling better. You can tell me whatever it is then."

"Too late," Keith says, shaking his head. It's starting to explode with cotton balls again. "Sorry. I love you."

He thinks Shiro's eyes widen. Shiro's other hand, oddly metallic and cool, pushes his hair back from his forehead. "It's not too late, Keith. I'm real, you're real, and this is just a fever. You're going to be better soon."

Keith supposes that Shiro returning his feelings must be too much to ask even from a delusion. He exhales again and closes his eyes.

*

He wakes one more time, to the bright light of a nearby star shining through the window, reminding him of sunshine. Keith mumbles and buries his head back into the pillow before he registers how utterly exhausted and sore he is. One eye cracks open, and then he shoots upright in the bed.

"Keith!" Shiro says, leaning forward to catch him before he rockets himself onto the floor. He gives a small laugh. "You seem a little more lively. How are you feeling?"

"Like I had a go with one of the Lions," Keith replies with a groan. "And lost."

Shiro hands him a small glass. "Another painkiller. You've been sick with a fever. Do you remember much?"

He thinks while he downs the medicine. His entire body feels downtrodden, and his head isn't in much better shape, but bits and pieces of the past — hours? days? start to come back. "I thought I was back before all this. Then I think I thought they were deathbed visions."

"That explains… a lot," Shiro says. "We should talk when you're feeling up to it."

 _I love you_ comes back to him. "Oh," Keith says, and his face warms in a way that he knows has nothing to do with the fever he just endured.

"Keith, it's not whatever you're thinking. I just don't want to overwhelm you right now." He takes the glass back from Keith before he can drop it, and then looks at him. His eyes are soft, like they always are when he looks at Keith, but Keith can see the bags under them.

Shiro must have stayed with him the whole time, through all of his delusional babbling. He stayed instead of sleeping or passing it off to someone else when Keith made his feverish confession. Keith's heart thumps.

"I might have been, uh, a little out of it," Keith tells him, "but I meant it."   

"Then it's a good thing that Coran figured out it was a Galra virus you caught, and it's not contagious for the rest of us."

Keith's brows furrow, the confusion temporarily squashing down the hurt. "What does that have to do with—"

"Because that means I can do this," Shiro says, leaning down to kiss him. It's the briefest touch of his lips to Keith's. "I love you too. I knew it, but. I didn't realize how much." With a small huff, he adds, "I'm glad one of us said something, sooner rather than later."

 _It wasn't too late_ , Keith thinks. He says, "Well, one of us has to have sense, and it's obviously me," and then covers up Shiro's incredulous, offended laugh with another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments are loved!
> 
> you can also find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/springofviolets).


End file.
